Restoration Efforts
by Anna-chan2
Summary: Hermione is concerned about Harry, so concerned she turns to the only man on Earth that Harry hates more than Voldemort Draco Malfoy for help. Will this have a happy ending or will the whole project blow up in Hermione's face? Warning: Slash HD
1. Wheedling and Pleading

Disclaimer: I own no one.

A/N: I dunno what rating this should be at the moment, actually. I'm just erring on the side of caution. May not be an M in the end. Enjoy. Feedback welcome. Ranting not welcome.

Nowadays, it is a novelty to see Hermione Granger, the Headmistress at Hogwarts, beg for anything. In fact, many of the students and not a few teachers would die of shock to see her groveling as she is doing now.

"Please, Draco, pleeeeaaaaaase?" Hermione wheedled, her hands clasped before her pleadingly. "You've gotta help me out."

"Granger, I don't even know what to say to you. I don't hear anything from you for five years and you seek me out to … to… why are you asking ME?" Draco asked. "You know Potter and I aren't friends. What made you even think that I would consider helping him?"

"Come on Draco, you're the only one who can help at this point. You should see him; he's pathetic. I'm his best friend and I'm not sure how long I can take his attitude anymore. Nothing gets a rise out of him anymore; he just sits at home eating chocolate cake and watching his TV. You're the only one I can think of that can get him off his arse."

"Granger, the only reason Potter will get off his arse upon seeing me is to chase me around, trying to hex me." Draco reasoned, folding his arms.

"Yes, but at least he'll be MOVING at all." Hermione replied with a exasperated sigh. "I can't even manage that."

"I can see how little you value my safety Granger, and that doesn't give me much inclination to help you." Draco said sarcastically. "So if you've got nothing further to say to me, I'm going to leave now; I've got an appointment at two."

Hermione took a deep breath. What she's about to do now is so un-Griffendorish, she was actually ashamed to do it but it had to be done.

"Draco, wait." Hermione said. "I have something to show you."

"Nothing will change my mind at this point, Granger." Draco said without turning around.

"Trust me, Malfoy, you'll want to see this." Hermione replied.

At the tone of Hermione's voice, Draco turned around. He hadn't heard that tone of voice come from Hermione since they had both been in school, and then only moments before she tried to hex him.

Without another word, Hermione took her laptop out of the bag at her feet and switched it on. Once it was on, she opened a word file and flipped the laptop around to show to Draco.

Puzzled, Draco began reading the file within seconds, he'd turned pale as a wraith.

"This… how did you get this?" Draco asked, truly shaken.

"Well, it was easy, since I was the one who set it up in the first place." Hermione replied.

Draco gasped, his eyes going round.

"It was you?" Draco asked. "How did you know who I was?"

"I have my sources," Hermione replied. "The point is, I have this on my computer. I also have a back up in a secure location. If you don't want this printed in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning, you'd better think of some way to make me so deliriously happy, I'll forget all about this."

Draco gasped again.

"Are you blackmailing me?" Draco asked, incredulous. Hermione simply looked at him.

"Fine, I'll do it," Draco said. "But if he doesn't improve despite my efforts in two weeks, I'm going to call it quits."

Hermione smiled and stood.

"We have an agreement, Mr. Malfoy."


	2. Kidnapping

Disclaimer: I own no one.

A/N: Please do not expect updates this quickly all the time. I do have school and I will not always be motivated to continue at a fast pace. So to help me keep going, keep the feedback coming. I like to know that someone likes my work .

It was another beautiful Saturday morning. The sun was shinning, the birds were singing and all was right in the world. Of course, one wouldn't know all this if one were named Harry Potter. Harry was still passed out on his couch in front of his TV, snoring the day away.

Harry Potter had developed into a very simple man. His weekday routine consisted of getting up at ten and waddling into work. One would think that I was skipping a few steps; I'm not. You see, Harry Potter now works a desk job for the Ministry of Magic. Not much is expected of him except that he actually show up to work. After all, no one fires Harry Potter, not without a damned good reason anyway. Personal hygiene didn't seem that important when stacked up against the fact that Harry had single-handedly saved the wizarding world.

Upon getting home, Harry liked to take some half-cooked dinner out of the freezer and pop it into his microwave. After consuming that while watching TV, he liked to ingest a wide variety of "deserts" ranging from corn nuts to ice cream and everything in between. He would fall asleep like that, the Cheeto's bag still clenched in his fist and drool pooling on the couch cushions, making them soggy.

On the weekends, Harry generally liked to sit in front of the TV and not leave for the duration of the two and a half days he has off. Sometimes, just to make life a bit more interesting, Harry would go to the movie rental place and get a few movies for himself. Of course, Harry didn't do that too often because it was just such a hassle to actually waddle to his car and drive to the video rental place and walk around, looking for movies before finally renting them. Then, he had to drive back and waddle back to the couch and pop in the movie so he could watch them. It just took too much effort and sometimes, the movies weren't even that great.

It had been years since anyone had seemed interested in Harry except to see where that horrid smell was coming from. Harry, of course, didn't mind. After all the media attention he'd garnered in his earlier days, it was a relief to be out of the limelight. Besides, those who truly cared about him couldn't stay away so everyone important was still there for him.

It was on this sunny, beautiful Saturday morning that Harry was rudely awakened by the pounding on his door.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice asked through the door. "Harry, I know you're in there. Harry, open this door."

Harry groaned loudly and waddled over to get the door.

"Hermione," Harry began, "it's way too early for you to be calling…"

Harry didn't get to finish his sentence because the moment his door opened, he was hit with a petrificus totalus charm. Harry looked about wildly with his eyeballs, trying to figure out who was attacking him. When he saw Hermione's face looming above his, he wished with all his heart that he was an illusion and that it was a Deatheater (any Deatheater) that was standing over him. When Hermione Granger gets angry, she is a force to be reckoned with and Harry knew this better than anyone.

"Sorry I have to do this, Harry, but this is for your own good," Hermione said. Her eyes were alight with an unholy glow; Harry began to get really, really nervous.

Hermione then rooted around his person and took his wand and then cast mobilus corpus on him to get him outside and into a waiting van.

"Hiya, mate!" A cheerful voice said from within the van. "How ya doing this morning?"

Harry came face to face with Fred's smiling face. Now Harry went from nervous to downright scared. When Hermione Granger and the Weasley twins get together disaster was bound to happen.

"Now don't want ya to get too nervous now," Fred said, still smiling from ear to ear. "This is all for your own good."

Harry was not so sure about that.

"Well, thing is we noticed that you've gained a bit of weight recently and you are in fact beginning to resemble your cousin, Dudley," George said, making an appearance beside his twin.

"Now, we can't just sit back and watch that happen," Fred said, making his sad face.

"So we decided that it would be best for you to get away," George continued.

"You know, get away from the hubbub of everyday life," Fred continued.

"So we booked you a vacation upon a tropical deserted island, complete with your own gym and personal trainer and nutritionist," George said, with an emphatic nod of his head and a big grin.

"The idea is you'd lose a few pounds and get into shape and when ya get back, you'll be much happier than you are now," Fred said, beaming.

Harry didn't like this idea at all; he liked his old life. He liked his TV and his couch. He liked his junk food and his sleep. Why did he need a change? He didn't need a change. So what if he weighs a bit more than three hundred pounds? No one really cares, anyways. These thoughts began circling in his head and Harry began to really panic.

"Now I know you didn't ask for this but I promise it will make you feel better," George reassured.

"You just don't know it yet," Fred agreed.

"However, we do know you, Harry, and we will not make the mistake of underestimating you," George said, waggling his finger at Harry.

"So to make sure you stay put until we arrive, I'm afraid it's lights out for you, buddy," Fred said.

Harry's eyes widen in spite of petrificus totalus but he couldn't do anything. One last stupify and he was out for the count.


End file.
